Alexander Pushkin

October 08, 2008

Night over Georgia; mist across the heights.
Loud flows the Argava River above.
Only my chained and prancing heart's distress
remains intense, a pain so filled with you--
totally you--that all its darkness lights.
How can I help, combustible anew,
but live in love, even a bitter love?--
being powerless to live in lovelessness.
By Alexander Pushkin Translated from the Russian by Peter Viereck